


Sweet Basil and Italian Parsley

by jenna_thorn



Category: Leverage
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Multi, OT3, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-06-06 08:53:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6747331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenna_thorn/pseuds/jenna_thorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>domestic OT3 </p><p>if that's your jam</p><p>(pun fully intended, yes)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Basil and Italian Parsley

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rhi Shaw (Gryphonrhi)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gryphonrhi/gifts).



The thing is, Parker has no respect for the list. You send Parker to the store, you end up with chewing gum, three of the wrong flavor of Rockstar, a block of store-brand Velveeta, and a pack of matches from a club that went out of business ten years ago. 

Not that there's anything wrong with Velveeta, but Rockstar has good flavors and bad flavors, c'mon, people. 

So it is simpler, easier, better for him to Peapod stuff to the drop apartment (what, he's not going to give their actual address to anyone. If it's good enough for the pizza guy, it's good enough for Peapod and the laundry service) and make Eliot spell out Havarti because no one teaches pensmanship anymore and we are not having the _havarti isn't brie_ discussion again in this lifetime. 

So staples get delivered, generic footloops next to five different kinds of flours (it says all purpose on the bag, right there: All. Purpose. All-purpose.) and yet Parker sits cross legged on the back of the sofa watching game shows in Japanese while eating chips from a bag with Arabic letters at night, and in the morning, when she and he are still curled together under the floral duvet that appeared one day (he doesn't know who found it, except he's pretty sure he didn't. Not entirely sure, just pretty sure.), he can hear Eliot pulling open the fridge door in the near silence of the apartment to pop in whatever he bought at dawn at the Farmer's Market on Third and Waterfront.

He can't hear him, but he can feel him, and he lifts one edge of the duvet in an invitation that Eliot doesn't (shouldn't) need buts waits for anyway every damn time. Parker grumbles at the draft, but Alec waits while Eliot sheds his clothes and slides in. Then she really writhes, his chilled skin against her sleep warm one, but having Parker wiggle against him isn't so bad, not bad at all, and eventually, once Eliot can't stand being still any more, he'll snake one hand across her to him and tangle their fingers together.

Then later, Eliot'll make breakfast and grumble about the grocery list, and how he has basil but not the right basil and Parker will sit, barefoot and crosslegged on the counter and light matches one after another until Eliot smacks her with a spatula, and that turns into a wrestling match until Alec threatens to use the sink sprayer on them both, and yet nothing burns and they sit down to eggs with the wrong basil and the right cheese and the three of them.

Precisely, exactly right.


End file.
